


We're Going Down

by rooonil_waazlib



Series: The One You Won't Forget [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, and get stuck in the elevator together, in which steve and bucky live in the same apartment building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 07:21:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2613188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rooonil_waazlib/pseuds/rooonil_waazlib
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The elevator in Steve’s building has always been notoriously shady.  The building’s like ninety-five years old, and it’s one of those cage elevators where you can watch the counterweights moving, and watch people on the stairwell, and race them to the top.</p><p>But the ninety-five years old thing.  That’s why Steve doesn’t usually take the elevator.  He only lives on the seventh floor, and he’s young, so whatever.</p><p>Except today he’s moving a big comfy armchair into his place.</p><p>He’d have been fine with being stuck in there—after all, he’s got a comfy chair—but for one major detail: he’s stuck in there with the guy who lives on the sixth floor that Steve has a big stupid crush on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're Going Down

The elevator in Steve’s building has always been notoriously shady. The building’s like ninety-five years old, and it’s one of those cage elevators where you can watch the counterweights moving, and watch people on the stairwell, and race them to the top.

But the ninety-five years old thing. That’s why Steve doesn’t usually take the elevator. He only lives on the seventh floor, and he’s young, so whatever.

Except today he’s moving a big comfy armchair into his place.

He’d have been fine with being stuck in there—after all, he’s got a comfy chair—but for one major detail: he’s stuck in there with the guy who lives on the sixth floor that Steve has a big stupid crush on.

*

His name is Bucky, he tells Steve after their tenth minute in the elevator. He’s wearing a big knitted sweater, but Steve can see that the hand that protrudes from the left sleeve is made of metal. Around the twelfth minute he slides down to sit on the floor; Steve is now curled up in his armchair as best he can be, his legs propped against the wall.

Bucky’s phone chimes in his pocket, and he squirms around to get it out. “The super says the fire department’s on more important missions because of the snowstorm. We could be in here for hours, and my groceries are going to go bad,” Bucky says, digging through one and pulling out a pint of ice cream. “Help me eat this, or it’s going to melt all over everything.”

Steve moves to join him on the floor, picking up the lid to see what flavor it is. “S’mores? Really? That’s a thing?”

“Hell yeah,” Bucky says, digging two flesh-and-blood fingers into the dark brown ice cream and scooping out an enormous chunk. Steve tries not to watch as he shoves both fingers into his mouth and pulls them slowly out, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks away every last bit of ice cream.

Less than twenty minutes, and he’s already way too close to embarrassing himself.

Bucky turns his light brown eyes on him, waving the pint. His lips are flushed with cold. “You going to take some?”

Steve grabs for the pint, looks intently at it and tries to think about his grandmother. It doesn’t work overly well (not that thinking of her wouldn’t calm him down—it would—it’s just that he’s having a hard time taking his mind off that mouth).

Maybe he can give himself a big enough brainfreeze that all of his blood will head back up toward his skull to warm it up? He takes a huge scoop and goes for it.

It turns out he’s right, but it’s a hard price to pay. He covers his mouth with his hand and breathes out, trying to warm up his soft palate with his breath. “Y’alright there, pal?” Bucky asks, taking a smaller but still sizeable scoop.

Steve nods and tries not to wheeze.

*

By forty-five minutes in, the elevator’s pretty warm, and the ice cream’s all gone. Steve’s already tugged off his sweater, but Bucky’s only just now getting around to it. Steve tries not to let his eyes linger on the muscular metal arm, but Bucky notices.

“Couple of friends and I were dicking around on a train a couple years ago,” he says, holding his hand up and wriggling his fingers. “Doing that stupid ‘saved your life’ thing, you know? Where you shove someone and grab them back before they fall? Only my friend shoved too hard, and I fell out before he could catch me.”

“Oh.” Steve clears his throat. “I, um, didn’t mean to stare. Sorry.”

Bucky gives a shrug that’s more fluid than Steve might have expected. “Not every day you see a fucking robot arm, is it? Attached to a person, I mean.” When Steve looks up, Bucky wiggles his eyebrows. “Impresses the ladies. Makes ‘em remember me, you know?”

“I,” Steve says. “Yeah, I guess it would.”

“Works pretty well on the occasional fella, too,” Bucky continues, his voice thoughtful, and Steve looks intently at his shoes, thus missing Bucky’s eyebrows drawing together at him. “If I think hard enough, I can make it vibrate.”

Steve chokes on nothing, but luckily, before his brain has time to process what’s been said, a string of violent curse words falls upon them from above. He scrambles to his feet and gets up onto the chair. “Mrs Baumgarten,” he calls. “Mrs Baumgarten, the elevator’s broken.”

“Don’t you fucking talk to me, sonny boy.” After a moment, old lady shoes and control hose come into view on the stairs. “And don’t you look up my skirt, you suck-up fuck!”

Behind him, Bucky snorts and breaks into laughter. “I won’t look up your skirt, Mrs Baumgarten,” Steve tries. “I don’t think you should go out, though. It’s really snowy. Maybe you should ask Anna to help you out?”

“Fuck Anna!” Mrs Baumgarten snaps. Bucky’s still laughing. “That bitch listens to her music too loud. No respect for the elderly, your bastard generation.”

“I give up,” Steve mutters, and flops down into his new chair. Bucky stifles his laughter, tries to rearrange his face into a serious expression.

But once Mrs Baumgarten’s wooly head disappears down the stairs, Bucky starts giggling again. “She really hates you, huh?”

Steve shrugs. “Guess so. I try to be nice anyway.”

“I noticed.” Bucky shakes his head. “You’re one hell of a dude, Steve.”

*

They’re not saved by the fire department, but by the renewal of the building’s power, around an hour and a half later. The lights flick back on, no flickers, no hesitation, and Bucky looks up from where he and Steve are sharing a bag of pre-popped popcorn.

His gaze wanders back to Steve, and he grins, and Steve ignores the swoop in his chest. “Looks like our first date is over,” he says.

Steve coughs, trying not to choke on his popcorn, ignores the blood he can feel rushing to his face, and aims for as suave as Bucky is. “So you planned this whole thing,” he says, looking into Bucky’s amber eyes.

Bucky laughs, his low chuckle trickling down Steve’s spine, and one of his eyebrows jumps. “What’s the right answer, here, that will make you want to go on an actual date with me?”

“You want to go on a date with me?” Steve asks, abandoning any pretense that he might look cool.

This makes Bucky laugh aloud as he gets to his feet and shakes out his legs. He offers a hand up to Steve, who takes it. The metal of Bucky’s hand is surprisingly warm against Steve’s palm. “Look at you, Steve. You’re nice to mean old ladies. You can pick up that armchair without even trying. And you’re cute. Yeah, I want to go on a date with you.”

Steve smiles, ducks his head. From the corner of his eye, he sees Bucky knuckle the six and seven buttons.

As the elevator starts to move again, Bucky says, “that looks like a yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Find me on Tumblr!](http://rooonil-waazlib.tumblr.com/)


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